083: Call Barney Stintson

I like to shovel angry.

I hate snow. I hate that it means more trainer time, and tougher days at work and less fun for me. Shoveling is not fun, but I try to attack it with some energy and make the most of it.

Usually I throw on the MP3er and with a little luck Hank Rollins will pour through my ears and help fuel my fury of snow removal.

As I came home Monday night, I felt pretty beat. While I love Buddy's Superbowl party, every year the Monday morning after I find myself questioning the logic of starting to drink at 5:00 in the afternoon on a Sunday night.

But, I digress, I came home looking forward to a peaceful evening of slight hang over recovery. Perhaps a movie delivery from Netflix to help pass the evening. Much to my dismay, I realized my mail man passed on delivering our mail today.

Over the years, I have really come to not like my mail man. The guy is straight out of Chevy Chase's Funny Farm. Seriously, it only took the rat fucker a year to realize our address is 38 Happyview street, not 39.

But I digress again. That lazy 1984 Chrysler K-Car driving fucker... There was plenty of room, easy access to my mail box. Sure there was a little snow if front of it, but nothing that his US Postal Issue K-car couldn't handle.

So tonight, much to my dismay, I got home and found the mail man took a pass on his responsibility. Fucker.

What ever happened to "Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds?"

Just sayin'
With another storm prepping to dump on Cecil County, I figured if I didn't make the area around the mailbox pristine, or we might not get mail for the next two weeks.

rat bastard.

Mailbox totally clear.

I like to shovel angry.

respect
fatmarc